After the Sun Goes Down
by TapTapAlways
Summary: After Terry's death in "Tomb Raider - Cradle of Life", Lara struggles with the scent of death he left in her life. The question is, what is the most effective way of shaking the ghost of the dead? A romance rekindled, good friends turned family, or a new fluffy best friend? Probably the latter, but trying all three cannot hurt, can it?
1. Lara

Lara watched the sun setting across the property of Croft Manor as she leaned onto the wide, cushioned windowsill. She had felt as if she had a hole inside ever since returning from the cradle of life.

It was quite a burden, which she had taken on, and with the death of Terry at her unwilling hand added to that, Lara felt bone-deep fatigue pierce her very being. It was strange - much as she had loved Terry, it was a very long time ago and though she had just started to allow herself to hope anew, she did not miss him. It was not even a case of "not even missing him a fraction of what she thought she would", she simply _did not miss him_.

It had been tiring, his manner of always having to remind her who was the man between the two of them. She had no problem with either being a woman nor vastly capable. Obviously, he was not that certain of himself. He had not used to be like that, back before his fall from being an honourable man who believed in something down to the creature he had finally become, but when she looked back, there had always been tendencies.

It was painful and exhausting, remembering those moments and his blood quite literally staining her hands a deep, wet red. As the weeks - three of them, so far - ran on, she realised what she had suspected the very first night she woke in a cold sweat about the memory.

She in no way regretted her actions - she did what she had to - but she had doubtlessly suffered a trauma. With her line of work, it had happened before, but she had always known what to do to make herself better. She knew what she wanted, this time too, she just struggled with context.

She would figure that out, however, by trial and error if she needed to, because she had always relied on her instincts before, and they had never let her down yet.

She remembered giving in and crying for hours the first time she lost a friend to an adventure. Her father's loss was different, of course: there was simply no escaping it, only mourning for someone she lost far too early.

There was the quest in Mongolia when she almost lost her life, something she coped with by an insane amount of riding, tiring herself out every night until sleep came easily, until finally the shock passed, some two weeks later. Hillary had been intensely worried at the time, but otherwise it had passed naturally.

Then, of course, there was the night after Alex's near passing as they fought the Illuminati for the power of time. She smirked internally. Once back in safety, all she had wanted had been to curl up around Alex and make him lose his breath and the focus of his eyes again, this time for entirely different reasons. Alex, after a simple promise on her part, had been more than willing to oblige her. She could still remember the intent look in his eyes as he had stated his terms.

"You're more than welcome to take out whatever it is you saw in there which I missed on me, Lara, but I want you to promise me one thing. Do whatever you like: I'll happily warm your bed tonight, but promise me that I will be able to walk out of your tent in the morning." She had seen his slight fear in the face of her intensity in his careful hands, but promising that much had been easy. The last thing she had wanted then was to harm him in any way. She'd pushed him onto his back in her narrow camping-bed, him going easily, and proceeded to spend most of the night taking him apart, in the best sense.

As it turned out, come morning Alex was not in fact capable of doing anything but mutter sleepily and try to shield himself from the light from the open tent-flaps when she'd risen, but Lara did not consider this going back on her promise. From the lazy kisses he pressed to her shoulder as he finally woke, late in the afternoon, she concluded that Alex didn't either.

She had known, at that time, what she needed to sort herself out after seeing Alex take a knife to his chest. And it was all credit to Alex that he saw just how dangerous she could be, though he willingly trusted her word: Terry had missed it, and it had been his dying mistake. After being forced to shoot Terry, seeing him go down, she did not know what she needed.

She wasn't fine. She knew herself and she could spot the difference. She wasn't missing Terry - the man he had been before his fall was lost already long before she got him out of prison, before he even got _in_ there, in fact.

She knew what she was missing at night, when the silence disturbed her. She could sleep, and she did not suffer from nightmares, but she did not feel comfortable in the dark like she used to. There was a fine line between agony and being haunted, but she was not walking it, not like when she saw Alex fall and slowly drown, smashed between the metal arms of that device, seeing her friends shot in Greece, or losing her father. Lara Croft knew mourning intimately, and this was not it.

She was missing a heartbeat; not slowly losing her footing as much as just... some small something. She wanted someone alive, someone to replace the memory of dying breaths with settled, surviving, healthy ones... someone to just be there, at peace. Someone alive, to banish the ghost of the dead.

For all of Lara's uneasy truce with peace, she was willing to experiment, as her instincts had never been at fault before. Like any decision, Lara did not hesitate once she decided on her first pair of experiments, though a lesser woman would have been embarrassed at the conclusion she came to. Well, one of them.

Deciding that she wanted her first try at a solution to be simple, Lara had settled on hiring an escort for a week. She was not embarrassed as such, but she did find herself suppressing a blush once she realised that the specifications she'd sent to her firm of choice was describing Alex to a T.

This did not, though, measure up to her surprise as she came down the stairs after Hillary opened the door, to find that standing in the doorway, was Alex West.

 _I am not attempting to make a statement about escort services or prostitution with this story. I do not have the knowledge to have an informed opinion, and as you will notice when the story moves forward, it is actually mostly irrelevant to what actually happens in this narrative anyway. I hope that makes sense._

 _I do not own Tomb Raider and I intend no offence or copyright infringement with this story, just some harmless amusement._

 _TapTap_


	2. James and Alex

_Credit goes to a good friend for thinking up James. This story are so much better for your advice, love! (If anyone is interested, this is the same friend who co-planned the "Pirates of the Caribbean" ending re-write with me!)_

 _I do not own Tomb Raider, hence me posting this as "fan" fiction._

 _TapTap_

Stopping dead in the staircase, attempting to look unmoved (and managing excellently) Lara was saved from the confusion of the moment by her other guess at a solution as James the huge St. Bernard/Wolf cross ran down stairs to meet the new exciting human who had arrived. James, who was a three year old not-quite-rescue dog, had only been in the house for about two hours, but he had already managed to endear himself to Lara, and this did not make it less so.

"Hello there," Alex dropped down helpfully to let the huge dog enthuse about him, letting Lara gather her head to herself and Hillary have time enough to make a beeline for the kitchen (in a supremely dignified way which did not _look_ like retreat, though it was). If he did this on purpose, then he had matured considerably since Lara last saw him. Then again, Alex's life had clearly changed a _lot_ of late, if _he_ was the escort she'd ordered. Though of course, he had always been utterly useless as a tomb-raider.

"A new friend?" Alex questioned as he finally rose, covered in dog-hair, focusing on Lara again. "An experiment," she answered pointedly, in a manner he clearly remembered if his smile was any indication.

"Much like me, then?" Alex countered, sauntering inside the hallway and closing the door, taking care that all of the dog, hairs and all, ended up on the inside, which was a task which took a few seconds, as James was rather excited.

"What are you doing here, Alex?" Lara replied somewhat impatiently, because she thought she knew, but in case she was wrong, she was not going to give anything away. She'd never hear the end of it.

"You ordered me," Alex smirked slightly, "shall I take it as a compliment that I was the best match for your order? Is this going to end with me unable to walk for two days again?" It surprised Lara more than she could say, as she heard a small note of concern following the entirely teasing statement. "Lara? What has _happened_?"

Lara waved her two experimental ghost-busters (back) up the stairs and into her study. "If you changed jobs, then you haven't heard the talk of our scene, I gather?"

Alex took the offered chair, shrugging slightly. "Not entirely, but I have kept mostly in the loop. I gather you did something amazing again. With some help, I take it from the gossip, but I heard no details."

"Do you remember my ex, Terry?" Lara poured herself three fingers of whiskey, offering to pour a glass for Alex with a gesture, but he shook his head.

"If anything should happen, I always insist on sobriety, at least at first. And yes, I remember. Had quite a fall from grace, that one, didn't he?"

"He did. And I won't get drunk." Lara took a deep swallow that would, true to her word, not render her in the least bit tipsy. "I took him with me for my latest one. He ended up betraying me at the very end and I shot him. Close range, too. I didn't even really get sprayed with the blood, besides my hand."

Alex raised his eyebrows at that, but didn't comment. Only when Lara didn't continue, instead leaning against a padded windowsill, drinking and looking out across the grounds of her house, did he speak. "And now you hired an escort? Lara, I..."

"So how will this work?" she interrupted. "We know each other. I cannot pretend not to." Her eyes were dark and firm as she turned back to face him.

"No need to. We have history. Should make my presence all the more... comforting." The last word sounded like a quote. "But you did buy me, for the week, and I will do whatever it is you want. Which, incidentally, we should discuss. What you want, and how the dog ties into that. Which, I hope, is not at all." Alex sounded as if he had confused himself, rather, with that mental link.

Lara smiled, bending down to pet the excited dog who was pacing between the two of them, trying to get some attention. "James does tie into it. Of a sort. I find myself... bothered for the first time in a long while that so many of the rooms here are empty. The sound of Terry's dying breath echoes here, though that is not possible - he died thousands of miles away. But I need... to replace that sound. I need some life here, which means James," his mile-a-minute waving tail made her point, "and I need to hear breaths of the living, instead of the dead, which is your job."

From all the things she'd ever thought she'd say to Alex, this was possible the least likely option she could think of. Saying such things out loud, too, was ridiculous, but she was far too tired of it all to beat around the bush about it. Besides, she'd bought and payed for a lack of judgement, after all.

It seemed, too, that she'd gotten it, because all Alex did in response, was raise an eyebrow and mutter something which sounded a lot like "insightful". After a moment, Alex leaned forward in his seat and merely asked. "So what do you want from me?"

For all that he was not even half the tomb-raider she was, Alex was seemingly good at his new job, Lara had to admit. They'd spent another half-hour or so talking in her study, as Alex skillfully coaxed her to specify what she needed from him. Somehow, that had merged seemingly seamlessly into her continuing to read the book she'd put down when he was at the door, while Alex remained as a comforting weight against her leg, where he sat on the carpet, talking in a low voice to James the dog, who had finally deigned to take a break and sit down for a while. Leaning back into her seat with a sigh, Lara let the sound of life in the room lull her into a calm which finally let her read for as long as she wanted.

* * *

It was hours later, during dinner, when Alex politely thanked Hillary for something (he and Bryce didn't eat with them, Bryce because he was eccentric and Hillary because he thought _that'd_ be too eccentric) that Lara next thought of the immense difference in Alex since she'd last seen him. She wasn't generally too much of a reflective type of person, but she couldn't help but notice this time.

She guessed it was fair that maybe he was playing a part - being who she'd want him to be, and he'd know how - because of their circumstances, but it did strike her how much he had grown up. Or maybe it was the stark difference to Terry's insecurities and blantant provocation which made such a stark contrast to her. His voice was different, too, the american accent from his youth almost gone and replaced with a slight tilt to what was not quite Queen's English, but made for a very pleasant sound none the less. Lara had always had a weakness (much as she wouldn't admit it) for men with an accent. She suspected she wasn't alone.

After dinner, Lara amused herself by watching Alex from the corner of her eye as he was studying her, clearly trying to gauge what she was expecting of him. She found his blatantness amusing, and wasn't going to be helpful. She was slightly disappointed when he eventually gave up and went out into the garden with a thoroughly excited James, though she had to smile despite herself to notice that he'd chosen a spot to play fetch where she could watch them effortlessly from her chosen spot.

She watched them silently as James shot over the lawn chasing the pink little ball she suspected Hillary had gotten just because of the sheer absurdity of one in this house appealed to her butler's rarely seen and very particular brand of dry humour.

Seemingly appreciating the dog's amount of energy, Alex threw the ball increasingly far at first, letting the St. Bernard/Wolf run across the wide lawns, but as Lara watched from the window, it seemed the game was slowly, slowly wearing Alec down, though James didn't seem to tire of running. Exercising him was going to take some serious creativity in the future. Or a horse. Fortunately, Lara liked horseriding, and taking walks with her new companion that way sounded appealing.

Finally, Lara gave up watching after Alec turned around pointedly and sent her a teasing look, and resorted to finishing her book instead. It was the better part of an hour before Alex returned, followed by a seemingly well-exercised hound, judging by the fact that James first action was to pad over to Lara's chair and lay down between her and the fireplace, resting his head on her feet.

"That is one bundle of energy you've adopted," Alex pointed out as he sank into the armchair opposite Lara's, "is he a rescue? He's a few years old."

"Three," Lara replied without looking up. "He needed a new home after the marathon-runner who raised him became a father of twins and gave up training. Keeping him became difficult - I volunteered. Hmm," she added after a second of reflection, "Hillary volunteered."

"And Bryce?" she could hear Alex smile even though she was not looking at him, instead lowering her book to watch the now napping James. "He does not live in the house," she reminded him.

"Fair enough," she could sense Alex watching her, but she did not speak again and he did not press her.

* * *

This part was awkward. Thanking whoever was possibly listening for James, who had jumped into her bed and was now resting there far more easily than the humans felt, Lara got in the middle of her bed, confident Alex would get the hint and take the other side.

She could have placed him in a guest room, yes, but that rather defeated the purpose of having him in the house in the first place. Hillary had suggested it, and also been rather appalled at her letting the dog up into her bed, but Lara was well practised in ignoring him.

It started a tradition, however, of Lara sleeping in the middle of her usually too large bed, James the dog lazily thumping his tail back and forward on her one side, and Alex looking up into the ceiling on her other side, soundlessly letting her use his chest as a pillow if she wanted to.

His steady heartbeat and his calm, healthy breathing did their job, however, and Lara found herself more at ease, already the first night, once the original awkwardness had passed. She had shared a bed with Alex before, of course, but all of those times had been either about warmth, or anything but platonic. Sometimes, both.

Now, their bed-sharing decidedly platonic, Lara drifted of against the steady heat of James, resting his head on the small of her back, and the steady beat of Alex's heart, under her right ear, his arm around her and resting (she assumed) on James' head. She had the feeling that had they been cats, both dog and man would have been purring loud enough to make the room echo.


	3. Croft Manor

_I do not own anything in this story: I am just playing around wildly in other people's sand boxes, adding unscrupulous amounts of fluff._

 _I previously written another, already completed Lara/Alex West story for fans of this pairing. It is called "How Tomb Raider Should Have Ended" and is available on my profile! :)_

 _TapTap_

Lara was in her study on the sixth morning of her week with Alex, when she heard him knock on the door. She knew it was him, because Hillary's knocks was far more formal and Bryce was far louder wherever he went. "Enter!" She called out, half-loudly, in response.

Indeed, it was Alex who walked into her favourite research spot, closing the door behind himself. She wondered if it was because whatever he had to say was private - it was not likely they'd be overheard anyway, not in her home - or just because he didn't want an overeager James bouncing all over them wanting to be petted during their conversation.

"Alex." Lara greeted, putting down her book and tilting her head ever so little, teasing the man in front of her. "Where's your shadow?" "Taking a nap. You wore him out this morning at the track." Alex replied calmly. Lara had taken James with her to her shooting track in the forest before breakfast, something which had finally seemed to be adequate exercise for the large hound.

"I am supposed to leave tomorrow," Alex took up the thread, not letting himself be lead astray by her teasing. She liked that about this new, adult version of him. She nodded in response, just to assure him she had heard. She didn't really want to talk about it. She'd realised, these last few days, that she'd really missed Alex.

"I don't have to go," he continued cautiously, "I could stay." "I could extend the contract," Lara nodded again, "I know." "Right..." Alex hesitated for a moment, then he sighed, starting to rise from his chair in front of her desk, but pausing. "You could. Or... I could just stay. With you, I mean."

"What about your work?" Lara didn't want any missunderstandings between them. Not now. They were beyond such petty mistakes. "It was good at the time. Not the love of my life. I am a tomb-raider, Lara, you know that. I just... wasn't good enough with the puzzles. Maybe, some day, if I could find a partner who was, I'd go back."

"Most men would not dare be kept men," Lara told the window, her back to Alex now. She turned when she heard him laugh. "Really, Lara. This is you we are talking about. I'd better get used to it or just go, I think. Don't you?" And with that final line, he was gone, the door shutting behind him before Lara could process his exit. Well, that was something worth thinking about.

Alex didn't raise the question again, this the last full day of his stay. Not during any of their shared meals, not while they played together with James in the garden, and not when Lara cornered him in her library and made him lie down on the low settee so that she could just listen to him breathe.

Like he had in that tent so long ago, in a setting so different, to a completely different kind of after-near-death-experiences-response, he went down easily, willingly turning his hand to let her catch his pulse. James, too, came and joined them, tail thumping, but Alex didn't raise the question again. Not once.

* * *

Lara had finally let Alex and James into bed around midnight, for the first time in the week divesting Alec of his shirt herself, though he had removed it on his own accord a few times for sleep or that one time they went swimming in the lake on the grounds.

The first few days of his presence, Lara had been soothed by having Alex around, but it was changing. She had missed him, and the more the scent of death was replaced by Alex's living breaths or James' lively exuberance, the more she remembered.

He had offered to stay. Not because she'd ordered his services, but just to stay with her. She wanted him to. She wanted him to wake up in his slow and dizzy way here every morning, wanted to have his warmth with her for her next expedition. She didn't want to limit him: didn't want to change him or take anything from him, but he had said that she wasn't. And only he could judge that. Only he _got_ to judge that.

So when the next morning came, and Lara lay in bed, watching Alex sleep on well through the break of dawn, finally getting up herself as James awoke and wanted to go out, she left a small note on her now (and lately rather often) abandoned pillow.

When Alex woke, it was to an empty bed, all except the note, which he read, his expression turning to a smile as he saw the words.

 _"Stay with me. I am great at solving puzzles."_ Alex stayed.

* * *

He quit his position without any regret: there had been a time when it had been the right choise for him, and he was glad, but, if one believed in fate, then it had played its part: he had ended up where he was supposed to be.

Lara lead an almost leisurely life, at the surface, when not out on a quest. Hillary took care of the house, Bryce busied himself with an astonishing amount of electronics, and Lara practised a number of skills every day, like horseback riding, shooting, horseback shooting, and fighting in a myriad of ways.

Alex found it effortless, though, to carve out a place for himself in Lara's everyday life. James was a new addition, as well as him - that helped. He often found himself shadowed by the large dog wherever he went, except on Lara's now regular morning rides, providing both her, her horses and James with much needed exercise. After that, even the often seemingly boundless energy of Lara's dog seemed somewhat lowered for a while, and James liked to sleep in front of a fireplace somewhere, pretending to be a hearthrug and warming Alex's feet as he read up on the treasure trove of information which was Lara's library.

She joined Alex for meals, sometimes reading, too, and they rode or fought together, from time to time. And then in the evenings, Alex took James out for playtime in the gardens, usually fetch but sometimes tracking, and then the sleepy hound would rest his head on Lara's lap as she and Alex read or talked together somewhere, usually inside, usually with a glass or two of wine, before bedtime.

Alex never did claim a guestroom, but James occasionally had to content himself with his basket in the library, when the door to the master bedroom started being shut with him on the wrong side of it, a few months in. It upset him the first time, but he got used to it happening from time to time, and soon knew that it'd always be open again, the next night, so as long as he got to steal Lara's riding boots for his basket, James didn't mind.


	4. After the Sun Come Back Up - Epilogue

_This, is the last chapter. I hope this story have made you smile, and I might well write another Lara Croft story eventually, I've found that I rather like playing in this proverbial sandbox._

 _I do not own the Lara Croft franchise and I intend no copyright infringement with this story, it is merely a non-profit attempt at some enjoyable fluff._

 _TapTap_

The sun was hot, much hotter than it ever got in England, for sure, and being midday, it was closing in on its zenith position - another thing which wouldn't happen in England.

Deciding that the warmth - though he got considerably more affected than his men - was warranting a break, Alex whistled to get the attention of everyone on the site, and issued a three hour siesta.

That done and everyone scrambling into the shadow of the surrounding forest, Alec made his own way back to the tent he shared with Lara. She had gone out on nightly scouting expeditions all week, sometimes bringing him but mostly not, and she was sleeping in the shadow of their tent, in the strung up hammock.

Nearby, Bryce was tapping away at a computer, Hillary was busying himself with cooking or cleaning, in that slightly fussing way he had about him, and James was lying panting under Lara's hammock. They'd sheared a lot of his thick fur before coming here, but the large dog still suffered in the heat. He had tried valiantly to stay with Alec, like he normally did at home, but had to satisfy himself with accompanying Bryce for the most part. And he guarded both Alex and Lara when they slept.

He usually didn't bother with that at home, but Alex guessed the great hound knew something was different here. That, or maybe it was his natural way of acting, and he was just too comfortable at Croft Manor to bother. In his experience, though, leisurely journeys without threat did not gather quite such a response from their self-appointed guard-dog. He bet Lara would remember how much the dog guarded when they brought him to Venice, but he could guess himself that it was more than home and less than this. He did remember that Hillary had expressed some concern about the hound when they'd travelled without him, when travel was just for the sake of ease, just the two of them, and no tomb-raiding was in sight. Apparently James missed them terribly. He had sure been thrilled when they returned: almost knocking both of them over in his eagerness at greeting them again.

Alex sank onto one of the comfortable padded benches next to the wall and sighed. The air was pleasantly cool here in the shade, and he needed the rest. Though more accustomed to the weather than he was, he knew his workers did too. They did work more hard than he did, in this excavation, after all. Even though he always did lead from the front, so to speak.

He enjoyed it, leading men and doing all of the muscle work while Lara did all the puzzling out of ancient puzzles that no one but her seemed able to understand, and scouted after things open only to her eagle eyes while he provided brute force and skillful backup. He liked to think that she did too.

It had been three years, since he had arrived at her home. Three years of working together, sharing their prize, their work and their bed with each other. And, sometimes, with James, if it came to comfortable sleeping spots in front of the fire of if any quest happened to involve needing to track a rabbit. (Which, incidentally, two of them actually _had_. Lara had been inconceivably smug for bringing him.)

All in all - he had been lucky.


End file.
